New Rules
by Olivia Wren
Summary: Law shouldn't have picked up the phone. Nevermind that he couldn't have known who it was.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own One Piece or the characters, those belong solely to the beautiful brain of Eiichiro Oda.

* * *

_Ring, ring, ring, ring… _

Law's eyes slid open sluggishly and he blinked.

_Ring, ring, ring, ring…_

It felt like it took ages to turn his head toward his snail, his hat loosening its grip on his head as it rolled along the spine of the couch.

Gray eyes stared at the little snail absently. Bepo had been here when he fell asleep, hadn't he? They had been discussing something… Something about plans… Oh right, Law's plans for when the Straw Hats showed back up in 18 months, give or take. (He had his doubts that Straw Hat-ya would be on time.)

_Ring, ring, ring, ring… _

His brows puckered in a frown. Who had this number, other than his crew? He couldn't recall giving it out to anyone else. He'd considered giving it to Rayleigh but eventually decided against it. There was really just no need. Besides, it didn't seem likely that he'd get any updates from the man on Straw Hat-ya anyway.

_Ring, ring, ring, ring…_

His eyes flicked to the side and confirmed the Navy's larger snail was still quietly resting on the shelf by the door. They'd given it to him when he became one of the warlords and informed him he had better answer it when they called. He'd merely smirked and taken it without a word.

_Ring, ring, ring, ring…_

He slid his gaze back to his snail, interest piqued. His sleeve slipped up his forearm as he reached toward the end table and picked up the mic.

"Who is this?"

"Oh, Law! Finally! What took you so long?"

Law sat up abruptly, knocking his hat off in his haste so that it tumbled down his back and landed on the couch cushions behind him. He turned toward the snail, one hand still holding the mic as his other gripped the arm of the couch reflexively.

"Doflamingo…!"

The man on the other end laughed and Law shoved the memories it unearthed aside to ask, "How did you get this number?!"

Was he on the ship? Was his crew safe? His eyes flicked to the door, jaw clenched.

"Ohhh, Law. You should know better. I've kept tabs on you since your bounty first showed up. You didn't think I'd lose track of my favorite, did you?"

Law's eyes returned to the snail, a sprout of puzzlement curling in his gut. _Favorite?_

It didn't matter. "You didn't answer my question."

He could hear the infernal teasing in Doflamingo's voice as he asked, "Are you worried?" At Law's silence, a deep-chested chuckle rumbled over the receiver before he continued, "Don't be concerned, I didn't kill anyone. I didn't even have to torture anyone, either. Your crew is full of a bunch of lovable idiots."

Law frowned at the mic. _He _was allowed to call his crew that, but not Doflamingo.

"Oi, oi, don't make such a scary face, Law. The poor snail is going to get stuck like that."

Law sighed and quirked his mouth to the side in exasperation, "What do you want?"

"Oh? So business-like! Am I not allowed to call to catch up?"

"Tch. _No_."

Law could swear the snail _pouted_ for a split second, but it was gone in an instant and the wide grin returned. "Ohh, such a scary pirate! I actually called to congratulate you on becoming a warlord. That stunt with the hearts was entertaining. Those poor marines' faces were priceless when they were explaining it to Tsuru-chan."

_Chan? _He'd pegged the Vice Admiral as too professional to allow claims of familiarity like that from pirates. Had he been mistaken? Law would have to revise his plans if Doflamingo had more Navy monkeys in his pocket than he'd originally thought.

But also… "Congratulate me?" His voice was flat, and he was working hard to keep it that way. "We haven't spoken in over a decade and you call for this? Why would I want your congratulations?"

Doflamingo chuckled, "That's not how you accept congratulations, Law. You're supposed to at least say '_thank_ you' before you say '_screw _you'."

"_Screw you_."

Laughter roared from the snail, tears of mirth popping from the corners of the red sunglasses that had appeared over its eyes (the psychic waves exchanged between the snails and their ability to mimic the caller's features had always fascinated Law, but he had other things to worry about at the moment). Law let it continue for a few moments, but when it showed no signs of ceasing he finally asked that laughing face, "Is that it? If so, I'm going to hang up now. Don't call this number again."

He started to put the mic down, but paused when Doflamingo actually responded.

"Oi, oi, wait a minute, Law." Doflamingo snickered, calming himself enough to say, "That's not all I called for. I was wondering when you plan on taking your place on the Heart Seat."

Law's teeth clenched and he leaned forward, saying very clearly, "I will _never _sit on the Heart Seat, Doflamingo."

It did not, however, get the response he had been expecting.

"Heh… Hehehehe… HahahaHAHAHA!"

Law stared at the snail's face. Had Doflamingo finally gone insane? (Not that he hadn't been already, but he usually kept such a tight lid on it that most people couldn't tell).

"HAHAHA! But… But Law. _Law_. You are already captain of the _Heart Pirates _and you brought a _literal box of pirate hearts _to Marine headquarters!"

Law opened his mouth to ask why that mattered, but Doflamingo just kept going.

"You use your powers to _take people's hearts. _How is that not the most perfect thing you've ever heard of for the Heart Seat?" He chuckled again and then abruptly asked, "Did you know you even have _fangirls_?"

Law blurted out, "_What?_" and then slapped his hand over his mouth furiously. Why? Why did Doflamingo always put him so off-balance? Why could he never keep his calm around the man?

But the snail had a smile that screamed unholy glee (and who knew he'd ever be able to apply the word 'glee' to Doflamingo?) and he continued, a lilt in his voice, "I didn't think so! That expression you're making is priceless. How did you not _know_ that?"

Law covered his eyes with his hand and said, subdued, "It's not something I pay attention to."

Doflamingo snickered again, "How can you pay attention to anything when you travel around the world in a submarine? I couldn't believe my eyes when you popped up at Marineford. I knew it was a submarine, but really, Law?"

'_Really' what?_

Doflamingo started humming in a surprisingly pleasant and peaceful baritone.

And then he started singing words and Law dragged his hand down his face.

"We all live in a yellow submarine~

A yellow submarine~

A yellow submarine~"

Law let out a muffled moan and Doflamingo paused, that teasing back in his voice, "What was that? I couldn't quite hear you from down there in the green sea."

And then he kept singing, "We all live in a yellow submarine~"

He glared at the singing snail, "_Enough._"

To his surprise, Doflamingo laughed but did indeed stop singing. He hummed the tune a bit longer (broken by random chuckles), but he seemed distracted, like he was doing something else at the same time.

There was a rustle of paper and the humming was suddenly accompanied by another of those unholy smiles.

Law didn't even know what Doflamingo was going to say, but he had the uncomfortable feeling that it would be something outrageous.

The humming stopped abruptly and the smiling silence was jarring. Law's shoulders tensed subconsciously and—

"Tell me about your first mate."

Well. That was unexpectedly normal. He eyed the snail, Doflamingo's smile making him certain there was a catch here, but Law was finding it hard to outmaneuver the man over a call. In the case of too little information…

"Why would I do that?"

The grin widened (_definitely _a catch, but _where?_), "Oh, come on. You know all about my crew. It only seems fair that I learn a little about yours." Law stared at the phone uncertainly. _That can't be all this is about…_ _What's his angle?_

Doflamingo finally chuckled, his smile shifting into something more complicated, "Alright, fine. How about a deal? For every question of mine you answer, I'll answer any question you have for me."

There was a trap he wasn't seeing in that, but Law's thoughts were having a hard time focusing after the earlier nonsense of this conversation (his mind was also working on something else, some other realization that would crack open the true purpose of this discussion, but it continued to elude his grasp). Still, he gave it his best shot. Even if it wasn't the trap, it would buy him time to think.

"Any question? At all? No matter what it's about or how uncomfortable it makes you?"

"Oh my!" Doflamingo started laughing delightedly, "Just what kind of questions are you planning on asking, Law? Should I make sure no one is going to interrupt us?"

Law stared at the snail for a moment, baffled. Then his cheeks flared a brilliant shade of pink and he said with mortification, "That—That's not what I meant!"

The damage was done, though. "Hmm? I see, I see. Whatever you say, Law. Let me just go make sure the door is locked, just in case."

Law sighed, shoulders falling in defeat. This conversation was solidly staying in nonsense territory, wasn't it? "Whatever. So will you? Answer any question?

Doflamingo smiled and hummed, pleased with himself as he said quite kindly, "Yes, Law, I will answer any question." There was laughter in his voice as he continued, "And purely for the unexpected entertainment you just provided me, I'll even answer them all _honestly._"

_Dammit,_ that's what he'd been missing! How could he have let that slip through the cracks? Law slumped back into the couch with a frown, absentmindedly setting the snail on his thigh so that he could hold the mic closer to his mouth. "Fine. You'll answer any question, _honestly, _for every answer I give you?"

"That's the offer. What do you say?" Doflamingo hummed Yellow Submarine as he waited for an answer.

Was this worth it? Could he give up information about his friend (and who knew what else) in exchange for intel on Doflamingo's operations? Could Doflamingo even be trusted to give honest answers—

Wait.

A wicked grin stretched across his face. Only _Doflamingo_ was beholden to honest answers in this bargain (and strangely enough, since his reputation was built based on his word in a deal, he probably _would_ answer honestly). Some part of his mind insisted that Doflamingo wouldn't have left a hole like that in his bargain on accident, which implied it was intentional, but he ignored the thought and forged ahead. "Then it's a deal. What do you want to know?"

Doflamingo's small, complicated smile returned as he said quietly, "Your first mate. His name is Bepo?"

_Damn_. Law wasn't certain how much Doflamingo already knew, which would make this more difficult. But if he dangled enough truth then maybe he could steer the other man wrong after a while. Very well. Let the game begin.

"Yes." That was one question.

"And when did you meet him?"

Law's face slid into a neutral expression, "After I left your crew." Two.

"Hmm?" Doflamingo paused and there was the sound of more rustling paper. "Come now, Law. If you want _specific_ answers from me then I expect the same from you."

Law resisted the urge to grumble, body tensing as he finally bit out, "Nearly a decade ago."

That _smile_. Law was still trying to puzzle out all of the emotions tangled up in it when he was distracted by Doflamingo's next question.

"Is he as fuzzy as your hat?"

"_Excuse_ me?"

Unholy glee. Absolutely. But even with that expression, the snail managed to look like Doflamingo was half-serious as he continued contemplatively, "He _looks_ like he should be as fuzzy as your hat. Minks are known for being physically affectionate, so I thought you'd have reason to know if he _feels_ as fuzzy as your hat."

"What…" Law closed his eyes and shook his head minutely, mind drawing a complete blank, "What does that have to do with _any_thing?"

Doflamingo sounded genuinely confused and the snail frowned faintly, "What? Is that not a normal thing to wonder?"

"Wha—_No_. You don't…" Law inhaled deeply and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice rumbling in his chest as he asked, "What's your next question?"

"Hm…" More rustling paper, a dry rasp over the speaker, and then Doflamingo muttered, "Not this one… Not this o—Well maybe you'll answer this one, it seems more reasonable…"

"Why did you pick a teddy bear for your first mate?"

"_Doflamingo_."

"Whaaat?"

Good lord, was the man _whining_? Law stared at the snail's slightly frowning face and felt like his view of the world was coming apart at the seams.

"_Do you have any more serious questions to ask me?_"

The corners of Doflamingo's lips twitched into the hint of a smirk and he asked slowly, "Are you sure you're not interested in answering easy questions?"

Damn.

Damn him.

_Damn him_.

Law leaned his head against the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling, fists clenching reflexively, one on his thigh and the other around the mic in his hand. He could do this. He could play this _stupid_ game and come out on top. The sound of Doflamingo humming Yellow Submarine quietly in the background, waiting patiently for the answer he knew he would get, made Law want to scream, but instead he took another deep breath and let it out slowly.

Lifting the mic toward his face, gray eyes fixed determinedly on the ceiling (no need to see the smug expression on the snail's face), Law finally gave his subdued reply, "Yes, he's as fuzzy as my hat."

Three.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the laughter, but it never came. Doflamingo's voice was unexpectedly soft as he asked, "Why did you pick him for first mate?"

_Because he's my best friend_.

He'd never, _ever_ tell Doflamingo that, and yet he didn't want to lie. Lying felt like it would be a betrayal to Bepo more than just misinformation to feed Doflamingo. Law opened his mouth to answer, but felt the words die in his throat as he hesitated.

Doflamingo was nothing if not patient, though. Something whistled gently in the background and Law suddenly wondered if the man was sitting on a windowsill. He could picture him clearly, staring out at the city below him (he'd be in the castle at Dressrosa, wouldn't he?), an unreadable expression on his face as he waited.

Law sighed and eventually said, "He's the best undersea navigator I've ever met." Only half of the truth, and they both knew it, but Doflamingo seemed to mercifully accept it without comment.

Four.

They sat in silence for several moments, both listening to the breeze sliding past Doflamingo's mic. Law was pacing his breath against the sound, body slowly relaxing again. He hated himself for appreciating that Doflamingo waited until he had calmed down (and how did the man even _know_ that over the phone?) before speaking again.

"Why did you pick _yellow_?"

Well, at least the appreciation didn't last long. "Are you serious?"

Doflamingo chuckled, "Really. You could've painted it any color. Why did you paint it yellow?" He sounded puzzled (almost hesitant, but why would he be hesitant?), as he followed up with, "That's an innocent, normal question, isn't it?"

Law sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Maybe he should just pretend like this wasn't actually happening. "I like yellow." Five.

"... That's it?"

Law turned his head slightly, still leaning against the back of the couch, and eyed the snail, "What, not good enough for you? Is it supposed to have some deep meaning to it?"

"Heh. Cheeky brat." Doflamingo smiled, the expression lighter than it had been. "Okay, next question then. How did you pick your pirate flag?"

How had this become 'trivia about Law's life'? Law's brows creased in puzzlement but he answered gamely anyway, "I like smiles." They reminded him of Cora-san. "And it's in the center of my ship's helm."

Six. But Law suddenly found himself wondering what Doflamingo's flag meant. He'd never questioned it before, always assuming it was just a smile being crossed out, but something about that didn't feel right. In retrospect, it felt too obvious for Doflamingo.

Yet if not that, then what was it?

He shook the thought from his mind. It didn't matter.

"Hmm." A happy grin stretched across Doflamingo's face and he asked, half-chuckling, "What made you choose to deliver a box of _pirate hearts_ to Marine headquarters?"

What was wrong with that? Law blinked, still facing the ceiling. "It seemed like an efficient way to become a warlord." Seven.

Doflamingo's deep rumbling laugh was unusually high-spirited, "HAHA! That sounds just like you. 'Efficient'. Heh!" There was some rustling and the whistling breeze dropped away, Doflamingo's footsteps echoing back as he moved away from the window and into the room he was in. He sighed contentedly as he sat down again somewhere else and said, "Now to what you would call more 'serious' questions. Where are you right now?"

Law lifted his head off the back of the couch and leaned forward, moving the snail to the table in front of him to make room for him to brace his elbows on his knees, "On a couch." Eight.

Law felt a smirk gliding across his face at the puzzled expression that Doflamingo was making.

The sudden grin on the snail said it all. Law felt a streak of satisfaction at playing this game with someone as clever as he was.

"Oh-ho, I did ask you to be specific, didn't I?" Doflamingo snickered, "Very well, I'll be more particular with my questions. What's the location of your submarine in standard nautical navigational terms right at this moment?"

Law's smirk grew, "I don't know." And he really didn't. He left all those matters to Bepo.

Nine.

Doflamingo sighed, that amused smile making a lie of his disappointed tone, "Law, Law, Law. Just what am I going to do with you?" Law's only answer was the widening of his wicked grin and Doflamingo laughed, "Oh, fine, you win. Those are all the questions I have for you right now. Your turn."

Law's smile diminished, but it didn't completely disappear. He picked up his hat from the couch cushion with his free hand and rubbed the brim idly, "Why did you call me?"

There was a brittleness to Doflamingo's smile, "Because I felt like it."

Law stared at the snail, thumb slowly brushing against the white fluff of his hat. "Be more specific."

Doflamingo hummed thoughtfully to himself and said, almost as if it was a question, "I wanted to tease you…?"

Probably true. (Undoubtedly true). But Law wasn't satisfied with that answer either.

"That's too easy. You said you would be honest _and_ specific, Doflamingo. Are you going back on your word?"

Doflamingo chuckled, suddenly sounding tired, "Like a cat with a mouse… Very well then, kitten, I'll answer you." Law stifled a moan at the nickname (yes, Doflamingo _definitely _wanted to tease him) and watched the snail carefully.

The snail's smile changed again, that brittle edge morphing into something almost desperate as Doflamingo muttered, "Is it so wrong to want to speak to someone who isn't a sycophant?"

Law felt like the floor was dropping out from under him. That had been far more honesty than he'd been expecting.

He'd have to be more careful with his questions.

He took several moments to collect his thoughts again, mouth suddenly dry. One down. He could do this.

He could do this.

Taking a breath, he leaned a little more heavily on his knees, elbows chafing against his spotted jeans. He could use this to his advantage. Time to test how much Doflamingo was willing to give.

"What are your current underground business interests?"

"Hm…?" Law could see Doflamingo's mind racing, calculating through the thousands of reasons Law could be asking and narrowing it down to a handful within seconds. His expression was unreadable as he muttered absently, "Now that's an interesting question."

Law's shoulders tensed, "Well? Are you going to answer?"

The snail gave a sly smile (there was something else in there, but Law wasn't sure he wanted to figure out what it was) and Doflamingo answered, "Yes, yes. Patience, kitten. It's not a short answer, it'll take me a moment."

Law frowned. Still with the 'kitten'? Really? He nearly crossed his arms.

He wasn't a kitten.

"Let's see, my current underground business interests… A shorter answer would be what they _aren't_, but since that's not what you asked, I'll try to list them for you. Devil Fruits are a big one, as are weapons. The slave trade I do on the side, more for the contacts than anything else, but another big one is corporate and government espionage, both for myself and for hire. Then you have the general smuggling, money laundering, drugs, raids, and pirating, of course." There was a feathery rustle and Law thought he might have shrugged, "'A finger on every vein' is my motto."

Law felt sweat beading on his neck. He'd known, vaguely, that Doflamingo's underground activities were extensive. But having a vague knowledge and an explicit listing were very different things.

That was two.

His fingers gripped his hat a little more tightly, "Which ones are your biggest money makers, and how much do they make?"

Doflamingo gave him a wicked grin, "Easy. Devil Fruits. Weapons are second."

And then he quoted their annual profits and Law thought he might choke. He was pretty sure Doflamingo could buy every island in the New World and still have money to spare. (Part of him wondered why Doflamingo hadn't done that already, but he'd had his share of terrifying revelations for the day and didn't really want to know.).

Doflamingo's smile grew at Law's silence until he finally laughed and asked, "Not what you were expecting?" Law just stared at the snail, jaw hanging open slightly, and both Doflamingo's smile and voice became quieter as he asked curiously, "Are you alive, kitten?"

Law's mind was only too happy to seize on something less shattering and before he knew it he'd snapped, "Stop calling me kitten."

Doflamingo just laughed and Law covered his face with the hat in his hand, frustrated that he'd let that slip. He exhaled slowly through his nose as Doflamingo started humming again (he'd have that song stuck in his head for _days_) as he waited for Law's next question.

Well. He was three down the hole and the answers weren't likely to improve his mood any more than the last one had. (Doflamingo could've easily counted that last one as two, so why didn't he? What game was he playing by giving Law so many freebies today?)

Law did his best to ignore Doflamingo's humming in the background. What did he want question four to be? What more did he need to know?

Ah. Of course.

"Who are your biggest customers for Devil Fruits?"

The humming stopped. "Ohh? So business-minded today. Are you trying to build an underground brokerage of your own?"

Law rolled his eyes, "Just answer the question."

Doflamingo almost giggled (Law never wanted to be able to apply that word to a sound coming from that man again) and said quietly, "As a broker, I've got thousands of customers for the fruits, but one person makes up nearly 90% of that aspect of my business." Law couldn't fathom why Doflamingo's smile looked so angry as he continued, "Kaido has quite a taste for them, so to speak, even if they are synthetic."

Law's mind was racing. Doflamingo's biggest customer was one of the Four Emperors? That was… Well, it could be bad or it could be good. The ambiguity meant it was finally information he could probably put to use in some way in his plans, though he'd have to take more time to puzzle out the specifics.

But on to the more important part of that answer. He'd never heard of synthetic Devil Fruits. He opened his mouth to ask, but apparently Doflamingo was in a particularly sharing mood today and Law got to save his question.

"Ohhh! Right, you weren't here for that, were you? Synthetic Devil Fruits are a fascinating concept. Growing them is a pain, but they work just like the real thing. Well, as far as they can tell, at least." He chuckled darkly.

Law waited, but it seemed nothing more was forthcoming. He debated scrapping his next question in favor of pursuing more information on these synthetic Devil Fruits, but eventually decided against it. Now that he knew they existed, he could investigate on his own at a later date. For now, he should stick to his plan to get as much out of Doflamingo as he could while the man was willing to talk.

He lifted his hat to set it back on his head, adjusting it until it was comfortable. "Who in the Navy is on your payroll right now?"

"Oh." Doflamingo's smile vanished, replaced by a mild frown. "I don't think I can list them all off by name. Can you be more specific?"

Could he? Maybe. Who did he actually care about?

"Can you name everyone above the rank of captain?"

Doflamingo hummed thoughtfully, "Perhaps… Perhaps." Something shifted on his end and his voice sounded faint as he said, "I need to write these down."

Law waited, listening to the sound of a pen flowing over paper, and found himself wondering if this was a dream. Maybe he was still asleep. That would certainly make more sense than Doflamingo calling his private number out of the blue and playing this game...

... And yet it was _Doflamingo. _Law had learned long ago to never underestimate the shit that man could pull off with half a thought, let alone a fully formed one. And it would make sense for Doflamingo to keep an eye on Law when he popped back up in the news, given that he'd eaten the fruit the man wanted. (Law was very carefully avoiding the fact that Doflamingo had called him his favorite. He had enough to deal with at the moment.)

The sound of the pen stopped and Law glanced at the snail's face only to find it frowning in earnest. Doflamingo looked mad.

"I'm forgetting someone. Who am I forgetting?"

Law felt a revelation tipping closer. Doflamingo remembered _everything_. The man was a walking encyclopedia. That, combined with his observational nature and blazing intellect, made him one of the worst enemies you could have, because he never forgot an insult and he could connect seemingly random facts in devastating ways.

Law stared intently at the snail as Doflamingo hummed distractedly to himself. The only time Law ever forgot something was when he was tired (not likely for Doflamingo) or drugged (probably not even possible) or…

Or drunk.

Oh.

Ohhh, no.

He couldn't be, could he?

"Aha!"

Law flinched, mind pulled from his focus as the snail grinned and Doflamingo said, "That guy out in West Blue. We added him last week." The man's attention clearly shifted back to the mic and he said, "You ready for my list?"

Law blinked, mind still reeling, and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Doflamingo's mouth twisted and he asked with what appeared to be concern (and hell, it might actually _be_ concern if he was drunk), "Law? What's wrong?"

Law snapped his mouth back shut and glanced around quickly, then snatched the pad and pen off the end table and settled them on his thigh. "Go ahead."

Anything to get his mind off his suspicions.

Doflamingo read the names off slowly, giving Law time to write them down, and Law suddenly felt uncomfortable with all the concessions he'd been getting.

Doflamingo couldn't really have drunk called him, right?

…

_Shit_.

"—and of course, Vergo. That should be everyone above the rank of captain, as requested."

Law stared at the list. It was long, though not quite as long as he'd feared. But he could barely read the names because he was still stuck on Doflamingo possibly being drunk.

But could he actually be? He wasn't slurring his words. His verbal sparring skills hadn't diminished in the least. If he was drunk, how drunk would he have to be to forget a name but have no other apparent side effects?

Could he be drugged? Could he simply be tired? The man was frequently plagued by insomnia, to which Law could attest after spending three years in the same house with him.

He rubbed his forehead with a grimace. He didn't want to think about this right now.

Law glanced at the snail, suddenly realizing how silent it had gotten. He felt exasperation welling in his chest and he asked, "What are you _doing_?"

The snail stopped making faces and grinned, "Oh, you are still there. I wasn't sure, you stopped responding. Does the list satisfy?"

(Why did he care if it satisfied?) "Yes, it's fine. I got them all."

Doflamingo chuckled and there was a crackling sound from his end of the call, "Good, then I can burn this. Now then, what's your next question?"

Five down, only four left. Law looked at the list in his hand again, then tossed it on the table and leaned back into the couch, body hunched as he held the mic to his mouth and asked, "What's Vergo's current mission status?"

The frown he got in response was entirely unexpected. There was a soft _thump_ and then Doflamingo sighed heavily and grumbled out, "I don't want to talk about Vergo."

Law felt frustration twine with a strange sense of satisfaction. He felt a sharp-edged smirk slide across his face, "What? Trouble in paradise, Doflamingo?"

"Heh." It could barely be credited as an attempt at a laugh and Law felt his interest pique. What was going on? Was it something he could exploit?

He felt something in him settle. He could play _this_ game.

"A deal's a deal, Doflamingo. I answered your questions, even the ones I didn't want to answer. Are you telling me you can't do the same?"

The frown remained and Law felt his hope rising. Maybe there really was friction in the Family he could make use of.

"He's working with G5. Vice admiral and base commander. Same old, same old."

"Specifics."

The corner of Doflamingo's lip raised in what looked like disgust, "He has infiltrated G5 and works to make sure that my interests are protected at the higher levels of the Navy. Akainu has made it more difficult lately, but it's nothing we can't handle with a little more caution than before. Is that enough?"

Law's mind had picked up the scent and it wasn't letting it get away that easily. "You sound pissed." Not a question, but hopefully enough of a prompt…?

Doflamingo snorted, "Pissed, huh? Nothing is ever that simple. I'd be relieved if I could just be pissed at him."

_But why? What did he do?_

Doflamingo exhaled slowly and muttered, almost as if to himself, "Did you never wonder why I sent him as far from me as I possibly could? Why he hasn't been back in nearly two decades? I don't _like_ him."

Law suddenly felt like someone had dumped cold water on him. He didn't like where this was going. Doflamingo wasn't allowed to hate his own Family. He'd _chosen_ them. Why choose people you hate? (No, no, don't think about that, it leads to dark places and realizations you don't want.)

Doflamingo went silent and Law let the question lie. A part of him wanted to press, to get more information, to _hurt_ Doflamingo the same way he'd hurt Law.

But a larger part of him didn't really want to talk about Vergo either.

He let his hand and the mic it was holding drop onto his stomach, the line back to the snail going slack.

What the hell were they doing?

Law was pulled out of his thoughts by Doflamingo's teasing voice, "You still there, kitten?"

"Stop calling me kitten."

Doflamingo laughed and Law frowned, but he felt lighter, almost relieved. (Don't worry about why, you don't need to think about that right now, don't face it.)

Six down. He almost didn't want to ask the seventh, but he couldn't change his game plan now.

"Are there any other Family members who are on special missions?"

"Hmmm…" There was another feathery rustle and Law thought Doflamingo might be counting off on his fingers as he said, "Two. One is on protection detail. You've never met her. She's guarding a scientist. The other is on… Labor detail?" This grin was sly, secretive, "Yes, labor detail. She's in charge of gathering enough… 'man'-power to keep our operations moving smoothly and at maximum profit. I don't think you've met her either."

Law wanted more details (names, positions, powers, anything?) but he knew he'd trapped himself with his own question. In fact, all Doflamingo would've had to answer was 'yes' and he still would've been holding up his of the bargain.

What a waste. He was down to his eighth question and he needed to formulate it more carefully. Dealing with Doflamingo was like dealing with a faerie ki—

He felt his cheeks heating. Nope. He definitely wasn't going to finish that thought. Doflamingo would have a _field day_ with that. No matter how accurate it might be.

Doflamingo chuckled, voice far too curious, "Oh? Law, what were you thinking a moment ago? You have the most delicious expression on your face."

_Nope_.

"Nothing."

"Hmm? Really?" His deep-chested laugh rumbled over the speaker and Law had to strangle the urge to punch the snail.

It wasn't the snail's fault that it shared Doflamingo's face right now.

He took a moment to think, trying very hard not to pay attention to the insufferable expression on Doflamingo's face, and said slowly, "What's the current location of all the executives of the Family?"

"Everyone but Vergo is here, in Dressrosa." A vague, almost pained frown stretched across his face, "In fact, I think they're all in the throne room right now."

Eight. One question left. Law had been waffling over this one from the beginning and had been trying to convince himself that it didn't matter, that he didn't really want to know the answer. And yet he felt his mouth shaping the words, his throat betraying him as he asked it anyway.

"... Why did you call me _today?_"

Doflamingo was silent for several moments, face unreadable. "... You know what today is." Not quite a statement, not quite a question.

Law said through clenched teeth, "Of course I do."

More silence, but Law could feel the other man's wheels turning. The snail's expression changed, brows furrowing ever so slightly, mouth twisted in a soft grimace. He asked quietly, "You were there, weren't you?"

_Yes. _Law wanted to scream it, but his rage had shut his mouth, his whole body tensed with the need to stay still or risk exploding.

Doflamingo didn't really need the answer though. He wouldn't have asked if he wasn't nearly certain he already knew. He muttered under his breath, "Did you know the rest of the Family celebrates this day every year?"

Law closed his eyes, his entire body trembling with his contained fury. He wanted to _burn them, _he wanted to _burn them all_.

Then his mind picked up on what Doflamingo appeared to be saying and he worked his jaw until he could part it and rasp, "The rest of the Family."

He hoped Doflamingo would take the bait, would give him a better answer, but all he heard from the other end was a gurgling and then the clink of something hitting the table. Law felt his gut twist, his mind careening toward a conclusion he didn't want to believe, _couldn't_ believe, because—

"You _shot _him. _You_ shot him. The rest of the Family celebrates? Then what are you doing? If you're not celebrating then _why are you getting drunk?_" He realized he was panting, lungs gulping down air in a desperate attempt to calm his mind.

There was a long silence from the snail. Law snapped, "_Doflamingo, answer me_."

A sad, exhausted smile pulled across the snail's face.

"You're out of questions, kitten."

Law's eyes widened. He was going to scream. He was going to _scream _and he wanted to set something on _fire_ and _dammit _why wouldn't he just answer the _damn question_?

Law didn't realize he'd been standing until his thighs hit the cushions as he fell back onto the couch. His hand released the mic and it clattered to the floor. He was barely aware of his body as he placed his elbows on his knees and gripped his head between his hands, fingers digging into his hat until they pushed against his skull.

He thought he might be hyperventilating but he didn't care, it didn't matter, this _couldn't be happening_—

"Law."

His breath halted. Please, he just needed a different answer. _Any _answer other than the one his mind was claiming was the truth, because it couldn't be the truth, he didn't want it to to be the truth—

"He loved you."

Stop. _Stop. _Doflamingo wasn't allowed to be upset about the death _he caused_, he wasn't allowed to _understand_—

"Don't waste it like I did."

The silence between them was deafening. Law just barely registered the click when Doflamingo hung up. His mind had gone blank, eyes staring at the rug beneath his feet but not really seeing it.

But if—

Stop_._

If he—

_Stop._

Doflamingo—

_DON'T._

Law clenched his eyes shut.

* * *

_Knock, knock._

"Captain?" He placed a clawed hand on the door and pushed it open slowly, peeking his head in through the crack it created. "I know you said you didn't want to be disturbed, but we were picking up weird readings off the sea floor and I wanted to ask… Captain?"

Bepo's mouth parted slightly in surprise, then he slipped inside and shut the door behind him. He padded silently around the coffee table to sit next to Law on the couch. His eyes widened in alarm as he realized Law was trembling and he whispered, "Captain…?"

The trembling diminished, then ceased completely. Law moved one hand from his hat and reached forward. He picked the mic up and placed it on the snail's back. Then he picked up the snail and held it out toward his first mate.

Bepo eyed it, then reached forward with both hands to take the snail, cradling it in his hands. He kept his eyes on Law as his captain rasped, "New…"

He cleared his throat and tried again. "New rules. My snails stay at the helm unless I'm debarking. I don't want them in my room. Someone can find me if I get a call." As if the words released something, Law's shoulders relaxed and he sighed, leaning back and resting his arms along the spine of the couch.

Bepo nodded, "Of course, Captain." He spent a moment looking at Law…

… And then abruptly wrapped the skinnier man in a tight hug and nuzzled his face.

The fact that Law merely wrapped an arm around him and didn't say a word told Bepo all he needed to know.

* * *

Doflamingo set the mic delicately on the receiver, face a mask. Grabbing the bottle off the table, he knocked the rest of it back swiftly and tossed the empty glass in the pile with the others. He wasn't sure how many that made since he'd moved rooms. He'd lost count after seventeen.

Besides, he didn't particularly care how many it was. It didn't matter as long as he eventually blacked out.

With a heavy sigh, he twisted so he could lay out on the couch, feet propped on the arm and crossed at the ankles. The light from the window barely reached him, the back of the couch casting a thick shadow over his body. He linked his fingers and settled them on his stomach, focusing his thoughts on his breathing, on the feel of his diaphragm moving up and down under his hands, on—

There was a click and the sound of footsteps behind him, a bar of light flashing over the floor as someone opened and closed the door rapidly. Doflamingo felt disbelief curling in his chest. Had someone actually come to kill him? Today, of all days? Wouldn't that be poetic.

But no, he knew the tattoo of that heartbeat, those footsteps, the familiar smell of cigarette smoke…

"... Baby 5?"

"Young Master!" She whirled to face him, putting her back to the door, her heart rate skyrocketing. Doflamingo thought it might give him a headache if he listened to it for too long, it was so _loud_—

"I'm so sorry, Young Master, I didn't realize you were in here! Oh, and you were even resting!" She turned back to the door and grabbed the handle, but he _didn't want her to go_—

"Stop."

She froze. Doflamingo's mouth twisted with a mild frown (why did everyone always _obey _him?) and he continued, mouthing the words carefully through the sludge between his mind and body, "Why did you come in here?"

He could smell the sweat on her, feel the nervousness in the air, hear the quickened breathing. "I-I'm so sorry I disturbed you, Young Master." Her voice got quieter, "I was trying to get away from Trebol-sama."

Doflamingo felt heat curling in his gut and his frown became more pronounced, not that she could see it through his nest of shadows, "Was he bothering you?"

"He stands so close and he's so creepy sometimes… I don't like it."

_I don't like it either_. Doflamingo was silent for several moments, waiting as her heart rate came down, the scent of fear dissipating. Once she was calmer he said, "Come sit down."

It took her forever (why obey his commands if she was so afraid of him?), but eventually she sat by his head, the only free space on the couch left. She perched there like a bird, as if nervous of what he might do, but after he didn't so much as twitch a muscle for several minutes she relaxed further, tension leaking from her as she leaned against the back of the couch.

He could tell her gaze was roving over the room, taking in the pad of paper, the pen, the snail on the coffee table. "Were you on a call, Young Master?"

(Could she not see the bottles? She might not be able to. Or maybe she was ignoring them. He didn't know.) He felt another tired grin pull across his face, but he merely laughed quietly and said nothing in response. (Ask. Why don't you ask? I didn't even bother answering you and yet I'm sure you'll say _nothing_.)

He stifled a sigh when his prediction was right. He could tell Baby 5's attention was on him, so he allowed his face to pull into a frown and muttered, "I've got quite the headache." Because he knew—

He felt her attention increase, "Oh, no. Would… Does this help?"

He felt her hands rest hesitantly on his scalp as she started giving him a massage (her hands were so small, _she_ was so small, what was she doing in this family of monsters?) and he felt the stress bleeding from his shoulders. He waited until it was at just the right pressure before he let out a satisfied sigh, knowing it was exactly the right timing as he felt her light up, her pleasure at being useful a candle flame behind him. (Did all manipulation have to be evil, if it sometimes brought happiness? He couldn't tell anymore.)

The rest of the alcohol hit him abruptly and he stayed perfectly still as vertigo made him feel like he was swaying. He felt consciousness receding, his body so heavily intoxicated that he might actually die of alcohol poisoning (and wouldn't that be funny?).

He felt a heaviness settle in his chest as he realized he probably wouldn't remember a thing he did today. The only thing he would regret was not remembering the phone call, but… maybe that was for the best.

Baby 5 was massaging his temples as he slipped into darkness. He smiled (and there it was again, she was delighted that she was helping him and for some reason it _made him want to kill something_—)

At least his hangover wouldn't be as bad as it could have been.


End file.
